The Wolf and the Owl
by gleefulmusings
Summary: The Doctor and Donna know Bad Wolf is returning to help stop the darkness, but Rose isn't the only one coming back. Kurt/Nine, Rose/Ten, magical!Kurt, BAMF!Rose, awesome!Donna. This is a side story in the Gloaming verse. It's not necessary to read The Gloaming to understand this story and this story will not be referenced in The Gloaming. Essentially, this is an AU of my own AU.
1. Grief

**Author's Note**: You guys ... I don't even know. I started writing Kurt/Wincest, and then, for whatever reason, I had to write this and get it out there. I don't know what this is. It's awful, but I kind of like it? This will be a two-shot.

**Disclaimer**: *taps microphone* "Hello, Kurt Hummel here. Sadly, gleefulmusings does not own me. I wish that he did because he recognizes that I am the most awesome character ever created - bar Cordelia Chase - and he never writes me as a dependent victim. Instead, he writes me as the badass I totally am and gives me really hot guys like Sam and Mike and Puck, not Fraggle Rock refugees whose hair looks like it was left in a waffle iron for too long. So, here, please enjoy more of my fabulousness. Thank you, and god bless."

* * *

Donna walked the TARDIS in search of the Doctor, an occurrence which had increased in frequency this past week.

She knew from experience that he wasn't necessarily hiding from her, but from the world, the one that existed in his head; the one to which she was sometimes afraid she might lose him.

The last time he had done this was the week of Rose's birthday. Knowing that, she had suspended her usual abrasiveness and gave him a free pass. She wasn't much one for handholding and talking things out. Sometimes you just needed to be alone. The Doctor had and she respected that.

But, as she had noted, that had been months ago, not a year, so whatever had brought about this need for solitude, it wasn't Rose's birthday.

Something else, then. She knew the Doctor had had other companions. Had had children and grandchildren. He didn't talk about them often and she didn't press.

Still, she was worried. She hadn't seen him in three days and, though she didn't quite know how, this was different. The atmosphere in the TARDIS wasn't the same. There was the elation and loss and regrets she had come to associate with Rose, but this was _more_. This felt like missed opportunities and failure and a deep sadness.

And she could _feel_ it, could all but taste on the air, and if it was affecting _her_ this much, she couldn't imagine what it was doing to the Doctor.

She huffed, bit her lip, and shook her head. He'd eluded her again. She sighed and decided to make one more circuit before calling it a night. If he wanted her, he knew where to find her.

She took a step forward and suddenly the floor beneath her lighted with an arrow.

Raising a brow, she took another step and then another, until yet another arrow appeared, this time pointing down the hall to her left.

She smiled and patted the wall. "Thanks, old girl."

The TARDIS offered a soothing if sad whirl in reply.

As she made her way, she realized she had never before stepped foot in this part of the ship. In fact, she didn't even remember it being here. Had she really missed it these past months, or had it been hidden? If so, who had hidden it? The Doctor? Or the TARDIS?

She noticed the door at the end of the hallway had light peeking out from beneath it. She nodded to herself, took a deep breath, and strode toward it, knocking when she reached it and throwing it open.

She looked around in confusion.

Whose room was this?

Everything was white. Blindingly so.

If not for the few splashes of color - a throw rug here, a decorative pillow there - she would have thought she was in an operating room. As it was, she felt slightly nauseated. There appeared to be no delineation between the walls and the ceiling and floor. She pressed a palm to her temple.

It was so ... sterile. And cold. Clinically so.

Who on earth could enjoy such austerity?

She looked to her left and saw the Doctor sitting in a gorgeous Queen Anne chair upholstered in royal blue velvet and mahogany woodwork. She knew her mother would have ridiculed such a chair while being insanely envious it was not in her possession.

She frowned when she noticed the Doctor clutching a highball glass half-filled with an amber liquid. She didn't know the Doctor to drink.

"Doctor?" she said with noticeable apprehension.

"You shouldn't be here," was the soft - and cold - reply. "This is not your room."

Oh, no thank you. She was not about to put up with his maudlin nonsense. If there was one thing she truly disliked about him, it was his mood swings. Sometimes she honestly wondered if he was bipolar. Between the mania and deep depressive episodes, she had learned to walk on eggshells those first weeks, but then he had stabilized and become rather enjoyably, if a tad, well, insane.

Obviously he had slipped back into melancholy and, as his best friend, it was up to her to snap him out of it. Right!

She charged over and sat herself down on the bed, blinking slowly when she felt the quality of the thread count of the comforter.

And _why_ was this not in her room again?

"Do not sit there," he hissed.

She turned toward him and gave him a most unimpressed look. "Listen to me, you skinny streak of bacon!" she barked. "You disappeared on me three days ago and from the look of that suit, the bags under your eyes, and your greasy hair, you certainly haven't been spending that time bathing. What the hell is going on and why is this room so bleeding white?"

He said nothing. He did not look at her.

She was being _ignored_.

_No one_ ignored Donna Noble.

"Don't you sit there and pretend I'm a statue!" she thundered. "What is wrong with you?" She sighed as he held his silence. "Look, I'm concerned, all right? The last time you were like this was during Rose's birthday. If this is something like that, then fine, I'll leave you to your thoughts, but not until you convince me that you're not going to do something stupid like lock yourself in whatever this place is until these very white walls start turning gray."

Still he said nothing, merely taking a sip from his glass and staring a picture frame in his other hand.

Knowing she would find answers only by looking for them herself, she stood and crossed toward him before moving behind his chair and staring down.

The picture was large and professionally matted, the frame pewter with a slightly encroaching patina. The picture was of Rose, an older man she didn't recognize, and a young boy whom she also did not know.

"So this is about Rose," she murmured.

"No," the Doctor said, taking another sip. "Not this time. She's a part of it, but not the reason."

"Who are they?" she asked softly.

"The bloke is me, the previous me, before I regenerated."

Donna arched a brow. She never would have correlated the man sitting before her with the man in the picture. They looked absolutely nothing alike, shared not a single facial characteristic and were completely different body types. Granted, she didn't know much about regeneration, so she wasn't really sure why it happened, how it worked, or the results.

Rose looked young here, younger than the majority of the pictures the Doctor had once reluctantly shown her. She knew that Rose had been nineteen when she had started traveling with the Doctor, so Donna supposed she was about that here, perhaps twenty.

It always struck her that Rose appeared to be a most ordinary girl - pretty, certainly - but Donna had seen dozens of girls in London who looked like Rose Tyler. Still, Rose had a quality, a sparkle in her eyes, a knowing look, a fun-loving spirit that appeared even in pictures. She was extraordinary in all her ordinariness.

The roots, though. And the eyebrows. Donna was glad Rose had eventually taken herself to a salon.

Rose was grinning at the camera, that enormous smile that could light the world, her tongue poking out between her teeth and curling up toward her cheek. There was so much joy in that smile, so much laughter and cheer, such a love of life, that Donna couldn't help but be infected by it. She could understand why the Doctor missed this girl so much. She herself would very much have liked to have met Rose even once.

The Doctor, the Old Doctor, had piercing steel blue eyes - stormy, like the Atlantic - and a receding hairline and some truly enormous ears, but he was quite handsome. Ruggedly so. Broad-shouldered but lanky, he had gorgeous skin, an aquiline nose, prominent cheekbones, and facial lines which suggested an almost-permanent scowl.

He wasn't scowling in the picture, however, but it wasn't quite a smile, either. It was close-lipped and tight, but filled with contentedness. His arms were around the waist of the boy - who truly was a gorgeous child - his chin resting on the boy's slender shoulder. Rose's arm was looped through the boy's and she was hanging off him, laughing about something. The boy, however, though his hand rested atop Rose's own, had eyes only for the Doctor.

Such eyes. Donna had never really their like before. At first she thought it must have a been a trick of the camera, but no. His eyes were truly that amazing. Blue and green and gold and gray all at once. An amazing color for eyes which looked so mercurial and intelligent and loving.

Dark, shiny hair which had obviously been well-cared for; colorful clothes of which Donna had not seen outside a fashion magazine; absolutely flawless pale skin which she could not help but envy; and bee-stung lips which curved upward in an impish smile that was adorable and yet, somehow, sarcastic.

"His name is Kurt," the Doctor whispered.

Donna said nothing but noted the present tense. She supposed it was good that the boy, this Kurt, wasn't dead.

"He traveled with me and Rose." He blinked. "And Jack. For a time."

Her eyes slowly panned from the picture to him, though she could only see the back of his head, which she preferred from the empty look in his eyes.

"You three look very close," she said cautiously. "Happy together."

"Oh, yes," the Doctor said lowly. "We were very happy. For a time. And then he left me."

She frowned. She couldn't imagine a person willingly leaving the Doctor. She knew she never would. She knew Rose would never have, but her choice had been taken from her. As for Martha, well, she had needed to leave to find herself.

"How old was he?" she asked. "He looks quite young."

The Doctor chuckled and she was struck by how dark it sounded. "Fifteen, though he acted much older. He had never really been allowed to be a child, you see, and while he could sometimes be immature, he was one of the most stalwart, dependable people I have ever known." He set his jaw and turned his head. "And then one day I looked and he was gone."

"Why?" asked a flabbergasted Donna. "Why did he leave?"

The Doctor gave a gusty sigh. "Rose was much different with him, you know, with that other me. They were much like how you and I are together. Best mates through everything. My Rose is brave, but his Rose was _fearless_. My Rose was humane, but his Rose was humanity itself. I'd never before met someone who had only one heart but let it bleed for the entire universe. She was so young, but so wise.

"Oh, she left him to his solitude when he required it, but then, when she decided he'd had enough, she'd swan in, saying something ridiculous or wearing something ridiculous or singing something ridiculous and, somehow, everything was right again. She kept the darkness at bay. Much better than I'm able to do for myself now.

"She saved him, you know, saved me. Somehow, through some marvelous twist of fate, he came across her after the Time War, after he had regenerated. She healed him. She stood at his side always, regardless of circumstance. She defended him to everyone, would brook no bad word about him, though he was a true dick on occasion, especially to her."

He barked out a pained laugh. "She never put up with his nonsense and could deliver one hell of a good bollicking when necessary. Oh, you'd have loved her, Donna. You and she are kindred spirits."

She smiled and gripped his shoulder.

"I ruined her. I became this and we fell in love and my loving her made her vulnerable. She was still strong, still brave, but I wasn't. I never told her. Even at the end, I never told her. I was too afraid. And I destroyed her.

"Suddenly she had bravado where there had once been confidence. Suddenly there was caution in word and thought, when previously she had spoken only blunt, unflinching truth. Suddenly there was realization that I wasn't him. She had gained a soul mate but lost her best friend. She never allowed herself to mourn him."

She swallowed heavily and looked away. "And Kurt?" she prompted.

"Oh, Kurt," he said, shaking his head. "Kurt was a surprise, even more so than Rose. So incredibly innocent and, at times, terminally naïve. Oh, but his voice! His _voice_, Donna! He would open that mouth to sing and it was the most beautiful sound in the entire universe, more brilliant even than the Ood. He didn't sing often and never in front of us, we always had to catch him on the fly.

"One night Rose was a having a nightmare, screaming and crying in her sleep. I walked toward her room, but he got there first. I watched as he sat next to her on her bed, holding her hand and running his fingers through her hair, and then he started singing. It was beautiful. It was so _beautiful_. I don't even remember the song, but I suppose it doesn't matter now anyway. He chased her nightmare away. He was good at that sort of thing.

"He is frighteningly intelligent for a human. Not merely intellect, though he has more than his share of that, but an unparalleled ability to look at something or someone and _know_."

"Know what?"

"Everything. _Everything_. He would take one look at you and know everything about you. Your strengths, your weaknesses, and how to exploit them for his good or yours. Kurt was highly skilled in manipulation, but he was never malicious. He had just been so hurt so often and for so long, he kept people not at arm's length, but entire continents."

"Hurt by what?" she demanded. "He was a child! What hurt him? _Who_ hurt him? Why wasn't he protected? For that matter, where were his parents in all of this?"

He didn't answer and lapsed into silence.

She knew better than to repeat the question. Or, perhaps, she didn't truly want to know the answer.

"Rose helped him," he finally said, "as she helped me. That is _her_ gift: emotional intelligence. She understands you better than you will ever understand yourself. Once that enormous heart of hers decides to make room for you, she will never let you go. You never want her to let you go."

He took another sip and forcefully cleared his throat. "Like Rose loves me, Kurt loved _him_."

Donna's eyes bulged and she released a breath she hadn't realized she was holding. "And...and did he love Kurt?"

"Yes. Very much." He let the picture drop from between his fingers onto his lap. "Nothing inappropriate happened, of course, but he wasn't _afraid_ to tell Kurt. They were willing to wait, to see if this was the life Kurt would want for himself after he had finished growing up. The other me would have waited forever for Kurt."

Donna's eyes stung for no reason she could understand.

"I have his memories, his thoughts and feelings, but I'm not him. He had no regrets where Rose and Kurt were concerned, whereas I have many. They knew he loved them."

"When did he leave?" she asked.

"Right after this," the Doctor muttered, his hand flailing over his body. "After I changed. After he _died_. That's how Kurt saw it, you see, as a death. I sometimes wonder if Rose felt that way, too, but she never told me one way or another and put it out of her mind soon enough. Although, when it first happened, she did ask if I could change back. She never brought it up again, but sometimes I would see her looking at me and know she was imagining him in my place.

"I was still recovering and Kurt left. I was unconscious in Jackie Tyler's flat in London, the Sontarans were invading, Rose was trying to hold everything together, and Kurt just _left_."

"He left while you were unconscious?"

"He was sixteen by then. He told Rose that he couldn't bear to look at me, that though I was still the Doctor, I wasn't _his_ Doctor. And he needed to grieve for his Doctor."

Donna said nothing, but she could understand Kurt's position. He had watched the man he loved disappear from existence and then someone completely different arrived to take his place. But no one could take his place, and Kurt knew that.

"The only time Jackie Tyler ever made sense was when she told Rose that, while Rose loved the idea of the Doctor, of who he was and what he represented, Kurt had loved the _man_. That's how Kurt saw me, saw _him_, as a man. Not the Doctor, not an alien, not a Time Lord, but a man. The man he loved."

"And the man he lost," she said softly.

The Doctor closed his eyes. "I know, and I understand, I do. He was so young and the other me was just _gone_. Kurt didn't even have the chance to say goodbye. They didn't have the chance to say goodbye to each other. He wasn't with us when I changed. Honestly, I don't know if that was a good thing or a bad one.

"I know he was hurt and felt abandoned. He understood better than Rose that the other me, while part of me, was not me and was gone for good. He left so he wouldn't fall apart in a world that already was. Rose stayed to keep me together. Sometimes I wonder who made the wiser choice."

"Do you love him?"

"I will always love him. I will always love all of you."

She ignored the skip in heartbeat. "Are you in love with him?"

"I honestly don't know. I miss him. I ache for him. I love him. And I hate him."

"Why now?"

"Today is his birthday."

"How old is he?"

"In his original timeline, he will turn eighteen in approximately four hours, thirteen minutes. Due to his time in the TARDIS, his physical body is slightly older."

"You never heard from him again?"

"No, but Rose did. Kurt was alone for much of his life. His mother died when he was a very young child, and while he and his father loved each other fiercely, they were not particularly close. Rose became his family. She was his surrogate mother, his favorite aunt, and his big sister all rolled into one. He had lost the other me; he couldn't lose her."

"They kept in contact. They even met up a few times. Once I tried to tag along, but he somehow knew I was coming before we even arrived. He never showed up. He called Rose to apologize and when she heard his tears, the agony he still bore, she couldn't help but forgive him. Neither could I."

"Does he know?" Donna asked. "Does he know Rose is ... lost?"

The Doctor was silent for a very long time.

"After it happened, I went to him. I parked the TARDIS outside of his school and waited for classes to end. I was at the other end of the football field. I saw him walking out the doors, holding the hand of a stupidly cute tow-headed lad with enormous lips and eyes only for Kurt."

He paused.

"Kurt had found someone else, but it wasn't the same. Looking at him, I could see that it wasn't the same. It wasn't that he had settled, it wasn't even that he had moved on. It was that _life_ had moved on and that was the end of it.

"He knew I was there. He released the boy's hand and slowly turned in my direction. I know there is no way he could have seen me, not really, certainly not my face, but he knew I was there. And I knew that he knew. About Rose, I mean. It was all there on his face. It's so interesting, that face. He has an amazing poker face. He can stare unflinchingly at anything or anyone and betray not a modicum of emotion.

"But when you know him, when he lets down his walls just long enough for you to get a peek at who is really is, it's all there on his face, plain for you to see. He knew and he _hurt_ and it started all over again, because that's all I've ever brought him, Donna: pain and grief."

"I don't think that's true at all," she gently argued. "Whether it was you or the other you, you brought him love and so did Rose. That's why he grieves, Doctor, because both of you changed him forever. He grieves because he remembers. He grieves because, though you both might be lost to him, you live on in him, so the other you never truly died and Rose isn't gone. You loved him and he loved you, and you and Rose made him better. He knows that. I'm sure Rose does. So should you."

He reached up and patted her hand. "I'd like to be alone now, please."

She left him to his thoughts.

The next day, it was as though none of it had ever happened.


	2. The Beginning and End of All Things

The Doctor raced outside and, as expected, every available surface was covered with the phrase _Bad Wolf_.

A message sent through time and space to lead herself here...to him.

Rose was coming back.

_How?_ And why involve Donna in this? Further, how was Rose even aware of Donna?

But Donna was special. He knew that. The Ood certainly had.

She was suddenly at his side. "There was more, but I can't remember. I've tried and tried, but it's...it's just past my reach, almost as if someone or something is blocking it."

"Don't worry about it," he murmured in distraction. "I'm sure if it's important, it will come to you."

She shrugged but was uneasy.

And why was everything covered with pictures of owls?

* * *

"Why won't you just let us go with you?" Paige exploded.

Kurt pinched the bridge of his nose. "Because I don't need you," he finally snapped.

She took a step back and stood alongside Phoebe, both of them regarding him with large, wounded eyes.

"Are you sure?" Piper asked softly. "We're with you, Kurt. Always."

He smiled at her, though it was pained. "I know and appreciate that, but this is my task and mine alone. I understand that you're the Charmed Ones and you save the world on a daily basis, but not from aliens."

"We can help you!" Phoebe insisted. "You're our cousin, our _family_. Family helps each other always!"

He shook his head. "You can't help me this time. I have experience with this and you don't. You also don't have my powers."

She set her jaw. "I know that you're more powerful than us, but..."

"That's not what I meant and you know it. Paige's telekinetic ability is different from my own. She can't orb energy beams away from herself or from you. The Daleks will kill you. We don't know if Piper's freezing ability would work, either."

"But my blasting power would," Piper gently argued.

He nodded. "I know, but this isn't like anything else you have fought against. They are relentless and remorseless; they are _soulless_. Their psychology is like nothing you've ever experienced." He regarded each one in turn. "Paige, you and Phoebe are pregnant. Piper has two small boys. I'm not going to risk you - I just _won't_ - and it has nothing to do with you being women or mothers or witches. This is personal."

"You want revenge," Leo said quietly. "You know that's never the solution, Kurt."

Kurt sneered. "I would have thought all of your pacifist nonsense disappeared when you became mortal. Don't be so naive, Leo, and don't you dare sit in judgment of me. You have no idea what's on that ship and what they're willing to do to us. They will kill every last human because they don't _care_. We're nothing but impediments.

"They would kill your wife and children without a second thought. They murdered _millions_ of races. _Races_, Leo, not beings. They have committed mass genocide and there's absolutely no reason to believe their agenda this time is any different."

Leo averted his eyes and ducked his head.

"Look out the window, Leo," Kurt said. "They've moved the entire planet across millions and millions of light years. We're not even in the same _galaxy_ anymore." He paused. "Can you even comprehend the enormity of that, of the vastness of it? And why would they do it? They obviously need the planet for something, as well as all the others that have appeared in the sky."

He raised a brow. "Do you truly think it bodes well for us?"

A blush crept up Leo's neck.

"You're right about one thing, though. I _do_ want revenge. I want it badly and I _will _have it. They killed Jack, they're partly responsible for Rose being lost, and they took _my Doctor_. Now they want the rest of my family." He shook his head. "No. Rose destroyed them the last time and, while I don't expect that I've been preordained for that dubious honor this time around, I will go and spill blood before all is said and done. And I'm just fine with that."

"You're talking about the extermination of an entire race," Paige whispered.

"Oh, for god's sake," Piper barked, "have you been listening at all? They plan to kill us, Paige! These aren't your run-of-the-mill demons. This isn't the Source. We're talking about something powerful enough to pull the planet out of orbit! They have to be stopped by whatever means necessary!"

She turned to Kurt. "I don't want you going alone."

He smiled. "Don't worry. I'm not." He swallowed heavily. "And if the worst does happen, know that I loved you, that I always will, and I'll always be with you. Look after my friends." He blinked back tears. "I want to do this. I _will_ do this. And if I have to die, I'm going to take every single Dalek with me."

And then he was gone.

Phoebe and Paige leaned against each other and cried as Leo paced the attic.

Piper walked toward the window and stared out at the new sky looking back at her.

She didn't doubt her cousin for a single moment.

* * *

"This is bullshit!" Santana screamed.

"This is what we're doing," Quinn said calmly. "Kurt is right about this and you know it."

"The fuck I do! Don't you _get_ it, Kewpie Doll? Kurt could fucking _die_."

Quinn inhaled sharply and turned away, eyes filling.

Santana sighed.

"Kurty will not die," Brittany hissed.

"Did you see something?" Santana demanded.

"I don't need to. I believe in him. So should you."

Santana threw up her hands and stomped away. These people were fucking idiots!

"You won't be able to leave," Mike whispered. "I've already tried. We're stuck in here until it's over." He smiled wryly. "Did you really think Kurt would do this half-assed?"

"Fucking ninjas," she muttered.

"We can't expose ourselves," said an exhausted Sam. "I don't like it either, but Quinn is right and so is Kurt. If we go out there and try to use our powers to get rid of these things, it's only going to get their attention. Then we expose other witches and magic itself."

"Good!" Santana said. "Maybe then the Cleaners will step in! Or the Elders. Or _someone_!"

"They won't and you know it," he sighed. "This isn't a magical fight, San. This isn't about the Source or demons or magic. There are rules. They're stupid rules, but they exist and will be followed."

She seethed with impotence.

"What about the sisters?" Quinn asked.

Mike sighed. "The Queen created a pocket realm for them. They'll stay there with their families until this is over. Kurt didn't trust the Elders, so he wouldn't let Paige orb them Up There to wait it out. Another one's been created for our families, the rest of Glee, Schue, Pillsbury, Sylvester, and the Cheerios."

He looked to his left, where Burt Hummel sat with his head in his hands as Puck and Tina tried to explain to Carole and Finn that, yes, magic was real; yes, Quinn, Brittany, Sam, Mike, and Kurt were all witches; yes, Kurt was the most powerful witch in the world. Ever.

Aliens were real. The planet had actually been dragged across galaxies. A merciless species of invaders planned to exterminate the entire human race for no other reason than that they could.

Carole was horrified and shaking her head dumbly, whispering _my son_ over and over again.

Finn was wearing his _I'm not constipated; I'm thinking_ face.

Everything now made so much more sense.

Why Quinn had chosen Kurt over him and why Puck had, too.

Why Kurt and the girls were always disappearing - as well as how.

Why there were so many unexplained emergencies and injuries that disappeared the next day.

Why everything had shifted when Sam moved to town and the group of four became five.

Why his mom and Burt's marriage had felt different from other weddings. Why his own connection to Kurt had suddenly become so much stronger.

All of that weirdness at Halloween which he didn't precisely remember, but still knew had happened.

Why Kurt never had time for bullies or namecallers or gossip or school politics. He was too busy saving the world.

Apparently it was something he did _a lot_.

He could accept that Kurt was a witch. Magic, for whatever reason, made sense to him.

He could accept Kurt as enormously powerful because, well, he was _Kurt_.

What he couldn't accept was that his brother - _his brother_ - had probably come close to dying on any number of occasions. That his brother could very well die tonight.

And there was nothing Finn could do, no help he could provide.

All he ever did was fail Kurt.

"Please come back to me," he whispered.

His mom looked at him with startled eyes.

"Nothing else matters, Mom," Finn said. "All of this, this stuff, doesn't matter. Not now. At the end of the day, it doesn't really change anything. Kurt and Burt are our family." He took in a shuddering breath as tears pricked at his eyes. "_All_ that matters is that Kurt comes home."

Carole nodded miserably and leaned over to hug him.

"I have to believe that he will," Finn murmured. "So do you and Burt. Because he will. Brittany is right. Kurt is strong. He won't die. We have to believe in him."

Santana wanted to punch something, preferably Finn or herself. If this fucking douchecanoe could _finally_ come across like this for Kurt, then what the hell was she bitching about? She resumed her pacing. There must be _something_, some way they could help.

Sam and Mike held tight to each other.

"He can do this," Sam murmured.

Mike nodded. "Not a doubt in my mind."

"Mine neither. At least, not about that."

"The Doctor."

"We could lose him."

"He's not ours to lose, Sam. He belongs to himself."

Sam sighed and closed his eyes, though his tears leaked out regardless. "I can't live without him."

"You could; you just don't want to. Neither do I." Mike shook his head. "He'll get us through this thing and then we might have to take stock. We might have to redefine a few things, but we won't lose him. He loves us and you know that. That's not going to change for anything. Not even the Doctor."

Sam blushed and began fidgeting. "I...I like sharing him with you because I love you, too, and I know you love me. But the Doctor..."

"I was with him before the Doctor, Sam, and I will be there after the Doctor. I'm not saying Kurt doesn't love him, because he absolutely does, and if the Doctor hadn't ... well, you know ... I'm honestly not sure what would have happened, but nothing will ever cause me to doubt Kurt's love for us."

Sam was quiet for a long moment. "Does he ever speak of him, of the Doctor?" he finally asked.

Mike looked away. "No. Never. I know everything about him except those lost months. The problem is that they weren't really lost. They existed for Kurt but he returned to Lima only fifteen minutes after he left." He set his jaw. "He lived a lifetime in less time than it takes to go buy a gallon of milk."

"And you're not jealous?"

"Sometimes," Mike conceded, "but mostly I'm worried. I worry about what he saw, what he experienced, and I worry that, whatever happened, he's either unable or unwilling to share it with me or anyone else." He turned toward Sam. "That scares me. He won't even tell Brittany."

Sam fidgeted. "Could you share him with yet another man?" he asked.

"Sam, we already share him with the entire world. He's the Hand. He's prophesied. Loving him is a privilege, not a right, and I plan on loving him in any way available to me. So, no, the Doctor doesn't worry or intimidate me."

Mike paused. "Am I envious? Hell, yeah. I know that Kurt has kept part of himself from us and that part will only ever be seen by the Doctor, but I can't help but _want_ to know that Kurt, the part that loves the Doctor so goddamn much that he's willing to die to save him." He sighed.

"And save the world."

Mike turned toward him. "In this case, the world is pretty incidental. All Kurt wants is to save the Doctor and Rose, because this about a lot more than just our feelings or our planet. If the Doctor dies, the universe will fall into chaos. He's as important as Kurt is, and so are Rose and Donna."

"I want to meet them," Sam said softly. "I want ... I _need_ ... to understand."

Mike chuckled darkly. "I don't think we'll ever really understand, but I want to meet them too. Just remember, Sam, our connection to Kurt isn't just physical or emotional; it's mystical. That's not going to disappear. It's never going to be eradicated. Kurt will always love us."

Sam hoped Mike was right, he really did, but he remembered that song Artie and Rachel had sung in Glee.

Sometimes love just ain't enough.

* * *

Santana Lopez did not know the meaning of surrender because she had never allowed herself to learn it.

If these people wanted to hug it out and hope for the best, then fine, but she was going to take action.

"There must be _something_," she hissed. "Anything!"

Xander stormed into the room, a grim Buffy and an anxious Willow hot on his heels. "There is."

He held out to Santana an old piece of parchment.

She rolled her eyes and snatched it out of his hand, raising an imperious brow and looking down with only mild interest.

Then she smiled.

Xander smirked in reply and held out a bag. "Here's what you'll need."

* * *

Rose rolled her eyes and tapped a restless foot.

She ignored Davros' ranting. She'd heard it all before from countless idiots.

Honestly, why did Super Evil Villains always have to orate a soliloquy to explain their stupidity to all and sundry? She supposed it must make them feel better about being such assholes.

She was seriously annoyed that her mother and Mickey had allowed themselves to be captured. Oh, she appreciated the sentiment, that they wanted to be with her until the very end, but it was incalculably dumb. She was sure they must have had a reason, probably to save someone - and she suspected Sarah Jane - but if they had just laid low, the Daleks most likely would have ignored them until they were ready to kill the human race.

At least Rose wouldn't have had to borne witness to it.

Not that she was expecting to die tonight or anytime soon, for that matter. All she had to do was bide her time. Either that or wait for the confining beam to fall, which would eventually happen when the Daleks decided to kill her.

Now Davros was crowing about exposing the Doctor's dark soul and imprisoning his Children of Time. Okay, that was irritating. She knew how susceptible the Doctor was to that kind of nonsense. Oh, he could shrug almost anything off, but when someone was lost, regardless of whether he had borne any responsibility, the Doctor plunged into a miasma of grief and self-recriminations.

She looked askance at him.

Yep. Mired in the dreck already. Typical.

She trusted the Doctor implicitly. She knew he would get them out of this somehow. Even if didn't, for whatever extraordinary reason...

"The Owl!" Dalek Caan crooned. "The Owl approaches!"

Rose threw back her head and cackled. She never got tired of being right.

The others looked at her as though she were insane but that only made her laugh that much harder, tears springing to her eyes.

"Has she gone round the twist?" Martha wondered of no one in particular.

"Oi!" Jackie bellowed. "That's my daughter you're talking about! She might be mad as a hatter, but that's no reason to question her sanity!"

Martha gave an exaggerated blink.

"Rose?" asked the confused Doctor with a raised brow. "Do you know something we don't?"

She turned toward him and beamed. "Maybe." She then frowned. "But you should know. You more than anyone should know." She shrugged a shoulder and pointed to Dalek Caan. "What he said."

"The Owl! The Clever Owl!" Dalek Caan tittered.

"See?" she asked blandly.

Davros sneered. "Oh, Miss Tyler, do spare us your ravings. Dalek Caan may be excused, of course, as he is quite insane, but from everything I've heard, I thought you'd bring more to the table than rubbish. I'm disappointed."

Rose shrugged. "If I cared what you thought, that might be upsetting. Given that you're so ugly and stupid, however, I'm not much bothered."

Davros flinched, furious with himself for having done so.

Mickey and Martha snickered.

Sarah Jane wondered where Rose got her gall and couldn't help but admire her for it. She was fairly certain Rose was up to something because the Rose she knew was usually up to something.

The Doctor was hopelessly confused.

Rose thought this was an excellent time to break into song, so she started singing _Honey to the Bee_, a classic pop gem from her pre-teen years. She thought she'd left the CD on the TARDIS all those years ago and hoped she could get it later.

"_What_ are you doing?" Jack hissed.

She shrugged. "Just thought this drama needed a soundtrack."

"Enough of this!" Davros roared. "Detonate the reality..."

"So close!" Dalek Caan crowed. "The Clever Owl is almost here! Hidden from Time. Hidden _in_ Time! The Forgotten Child!"

Rose nodded happily before smirking at Davros. "You think you've got it all figured out, don't you? You're in for a very rude awakening, as your little friend there knows quite well."

"Rose," the Doctor said darkly, "what are you talking about? What do you mean?"

She gave him an imploring look filled with disappointment. "Don't you know, Doctor? Can't you feel him?"

His brows gathered. "Who? Who the bloody hell is this Owl supposed to be?"

"There is no Owl!" Davros snarled, spittle flying from his mouth.

"You really think that prophecy only pertained to the Doctor?" asked a snide Rose. "Funny thing, prophecies. They can cross universes. They can see the future. They can reach back in time. They become self-fulfilling."

He smirked. "You should know, Bad Wolf."

She rolled her eyes and waved a dismissive hand. "Yeah, yeah, we _all_ know. I doubt there's anyone who _doesn't_ know Rose Tyler is the Bad Wolf." She leaned forward and grinned. "You set this all in motion, so you only have yourself to blame."

Before Davros could respond, she turned back to the Doctor.

"What does an owl symbolize?"

The Doctor frowned. "The owl is a symbol of wisdom, of course, and was associated with Athena, the goddess of wisdom in warfare. The traditional meaning of the appearance of an owl is a heralding of death, but that death might be symbolic; a change or transition, for example. The owl is said to be difficult if not impossible to deceive; it sees through masks and illusions with ease and often sees clearly that which most others miss."

She gave him an incredulous look. "Ring any bells?"

Jackie lifted a trembling hand and covered her mouth. Her boy! Her boy was coming! "Oh, dear god," she whispered. "You always said. You always knew."

Rose beamed. "Always." She looked back at her Doctor. "He promised me, Doctor. He promised he would be there for me whenever I needed him. Do you think you're the only one who felt my return? He did, too."

"No," the Doctor breathed after a moment's thought, his eyes wide and heart heavy. "No, it can't be."

She laughed. "Of course it can!" She clapped her hands. "I can feel him now, too."

"There's no way he can get up here, Rose, and I wouldn't want him to. This has nothing to do with him and I won't see him hurt. I have hurt that boy enough and swore to myself I would leave him in peace. I will not have his life interrupted again."

Her gaze was cool. "That's not your choice."

There was a sudden explosion of golden sparks to the right of Davros.

Kurt smirked. "Guess who?"

* * *

Brittany's eyes snapped open. "He's there. Do it now."

Santana held the spell in her hand. She felt certain she and Quinn had altered it accordingly, or at least the best they could. It was never intended to be used in this manner, but too bad.

There would probably be consequences. Hopefully those consequences wouldn't be visited on Kurt.

"Are you sure you don't..." she asked Brittany.

"I can't," Brittany interrupted. "It would only distract him."

Santana nodded uneasily, keenly feeling her absence in the circle. She looked at Mike, but he nodded his understanding; he wasn't Pentad and there was room only for four. He whispered good luck to Sam, who drew him into a searing kiss.

"We're getting our boyfriend back," Sam said decidedly when they pulled apart.

Mike smiled at him. "I never doubted it. I've never doubted you or him."

Santana gestured for Sam, Quinn, and Prue to join her in the circle.

"Are you sure?" Prue asked in an even voice.

"You're still a witch," Santana said, "whitelighter or not. You're his cousin. You raised him. You're Charmed, or you were once. You belong here."

She nodded. "You'll do the first part?"

Santana blew out a breath. "And then you'll do yours."

"Let's get started."

* * *

"Who are you?" Davros demanded.

Kurt looked over and raised an eyebrow. "Wow. Now that's _ugly._"

Rose snickered.

"Kurt, sweetheart!" Jackie squealed. "What are you doing here?"

He turned and smiled. "I came for my sister. And all of you, of course. Hello, Sarah Jane."

"Hello, Kurt," Sarah Jane said kindly. "It's good to see you again. I have the feeling I should have expected this."

"What?" the Doctor whispered. How in the world did these two know each other?

"And how is Luke?" Kurt asked.

She laughed gently. "Still quite enamored of you." Her laughter grew at his furious blush.

Jack leered. "Well, look who's all grown up and absolutely _delicious_."

Kurt rolled his eyes and turned toward the source of the smarm. "Well, I can see some things will never..." he trailed off, paling rapidly. "J-Jack?" he croaked as tears gathered in his eyes. "How ... how are you ... oh, _Jack_."

Jack immediately felt like an asshole. He hadn't even stopped to think that, as far as Kurt Hummel was concerned, Jack Harkness was dead. "I'm okay, honey. I really am."

Kurt blinked several times and finally managed a nod. "Hello, Doctor," he whispered.

"Hello," the Doctor said hesitantly.

And the part of him that was his ninth regeneration, the part that still lurked in the hallows of his mind, wept and screamed for release, wanting nothing more than to be reunited with Kurt.

But he couldn't be. They both knew that and so did Kurt.

Kurt inhaled sharply and turned back to Davros. "You're a very poor host. I have it on good authority that you were told to expect me, but I don't see a muffin basket in welcome. Evil villains are always so ill-mannered."

"Who are you!" Davros roared.

"I'm the Clever Owl," Kurt replied, raising a brow. "Hoot."

Rose cackled once more. She found she was becoming fond of the activity.

Davros started bleating about the impossibility of owls and Kurt was over it already.

"Enough of this," he complained. "First, I'm going to free my friends. Second, you and I will discuss returning planets to where they belong."

Davros laughed uproariously. "I'd enjoy seeing you try."

Kurt shrugged. "Okay."

He dropped his hands to his sides. Energy balls immediately appeared in his palms and he threw them with grace and accuracy at the sources of the containment fields, shorting them out.

Jack stared. "What the f..."

"Language!" Martha and Sarah Jane snapped.

He was incredulous. "Are you fucking _kidding_ me right now?"

Kurt looked over at Davros. "How'd I do?"

"Kill him!" Davros screamed.

A Dalek whirred and pointed its eyepiece toward Kurt, who merely stood there placidly.

"Kurt!" Rose and the Doctor screamed just as the Dalek fired.

Kurt remained still, watching with scant interest as the energy beam flashed toward him. He held out his hand and deflected it back toward its sender, causing the Dalek to explode.

He frowned. "Messy."

"What _are_ you!" Davros shouted.

"Beyond you," Kurt replied coldly as he began advancing. "_You_ started this. You _ruined_ him. When Rose found him, he was a husk, an empty shell. But she saved him and then they found me, and _then_ she saved _me_. Then I lost him _and_ her because of _you_, because of your _creation_. You _will_ pay."

A wide-eyed Rose stepped back in shock, realization crashing into her. "You loved him," she whispered, though her voice echoed. "You were in love with him."

"That doesn't matter anymore," he said tightly.

"Yes, it does," she insisted, voice hoarse. "I didn't know. I should have. I should have _understood_ why you left, why you felt you had to."

"It doesn't matter, Rose. Leave it alone."

She could hear it in his voice, could hear the break coming, but she couldn't stop. She had to know. "Did he love you too?"

Kurt's breath hitched but he kept his eyes on Davros.

"Yes," the Doctor said quietly. "He did."

Rose reeled back as if struck. She'd had no idea, she truly didn't, but now, looking back ... oh, god. No wonder Kurt had left after the regeneration! And he hadn't obfuscated the reason.

_He's not my Doctor, Rose._

_I lost my Doctor._

_I need to grieve for my Doctor_.

Those quiet whispers now roared in her head like raging waterfalls.

Oh, _god_.

She wasn't jealous, she wasn't, because she hadn't felt for _that_ Doctor what she did for _this _Doctor, but she also realized she too had never mourned that Doctor, the best mate she'd ever had.

Suddenly that seemed so _wrong_, so cruel. Hadn't she owed him at least that much? To remember him, to honor him in some small way? He was the one who opened the TARDIS doors for her. He was the one who had taken her to see her father. He was the one who had taken her to see the end of the world.

And he was the one who died so that she would live.

She gasped sharply as tears pricked at her eyes.

She hadn't even _tried_ to understand Kurt's pain, to examine it too closely, too insistent on helping this Doctor, choosing to believe that one Doctor was _all_ Doctors, just with different appearances.

But they weren't.

She had called Kurt a coward to his face! He was never a coward, never could be. She was surprised he hadn't slapped her. She hoped he would now because she definitely deserved it.

Jack stared dumbly at the scene before him. How in the hell had he missed this? All of those months in the TARDIS, all of their adventures, and he had never even suspected.

He remembered back to the Watchtower, when the Doctor had tricked Kurt and Rose into the TARDIS, sending it back to their original time. But could Kurt even be tricked? He had to have known, had probably wanted Rose to return home to Jackie and then he'd come back for the Doctor, but that hadn't happened. He remembered the Doctor's suspiciously bright eyes. He had thought it was about Rose, and some of it absolutely was, but most of it...

He felt guilty now for kissing the Doctor. As much as he had loved the Doctor, as much as he continued to love the Doctor, he knew that, while the Doctor was fond of him, those feelings could never be returned.

He still didn't know what had happened after he had gone out to fight. He had pieced together that Rose had returned in the TARDIS and defeated the Daleks, but he didn't know how. Truthfully, he wasn't sure he wanted to know.

Davros smirked. "Another life you've destroyed, Doctor. Is there no end to your cruelty?"

Kurt tilted his head. "That wasn't smart." He flicked a finger. "Go away."

Davros was thrown from his chair, flying across the hall and crashing into the wall. He fell to the floor in a heap, trying and failing to prop himself up on his elbows to keep them all in his line of sight.

And then Kurt was tackled by Rose, followed by Jackie.

"Doctor," Martha whispered. "Who is that boy? How is he doing these things?"

"He's Kurt."

She blinked. Was that supposed to be a legitimate answer?

"Let's just get out of here," Jack said, marshalling the others.

"Not yet," Kurt said. "This is far from over. I meant what I said. They're going to pay."

He pulled a necklace out from under his shirt, his key to the TARDIS softly glowing. He held it in both hands, bowed his head, murmured something under his breath, and then waited.

Suddenly there was that distinctive sound. The TARDIS reappeared, and Donna and another Doctor tumbled out of it.

Kurt soured. "Isn't one of you enough?"

* * *

Santana exchanged a brief look with Quinn, Sam, and Prue. She nodded.

"The power of the gods and all who wield it, last to ancient first, we invoke thee. Grant us thy domain and primal strength. Accept us and the power we possess. Make us mind and heart and spirit enjoined. Let the Hand encompass us. Do thy will."

* * *

Kurt was thrown forward and barely managed to right himself before falling to the ground.

"Kurt?" asked an anxious Rose, rushing to help him.

Donna gasped. It _was_ Kurt! Older than the picture she had seen, but definitely the same boy. She turned toward the Doctor, the proper one, and was unsurprised to see him staring blankly at Kurt.

Kurt shook her off. "Not this time, Rose. You ended it in the future and my Doctor sacrificed himself to save the universe, but _I'm_ ending it here and now. The Time War ends. _Finally_."

"Kurt, what are you doing?" asked a very worried Doctor.

In lieu of a verbal response, Kurt waved a hand and sent them all flying toward the TARDIS. Rose, Jack, and the Doctor immediately got to their feet to race back, but were stopped by an invisible shield.

"How are you doing this?" the Doctor demanded.

Kurt looked at him. "Magic."

"That's not funny, Kurt."

"I'm a witch, Doctor." He blinked and then laughed.

The Doctor scowled.

"You know we're real, Doctor. I find it hard to believe that you've never encountered even one of us in your many travels."

The Doctor suddenly looked unsure. "Kurt?"

"I am the Hand."

The Doctor's eyes widened. "No!" he screamed, shaking his head in denial. "_No!_" He shrugged off Rose and Jack's arms and their demands for answers. "Kurt, no! The Hand was never meant to be called! It was always only a concept, a last resort. You _cannot_ be, because if you are..."

"Yes."

The Doctor was horrified. "No! I will not posit a world without you in it!"

"What!" Jackie screamed.

Kurt ignored the Doctor. "Rose, Donna is safe. You were right: she's incredibly important and for even more reasons than you ever realized. If I don't make it back, take her to Santana. Promise me."

Rose stared at him, tears dripping down her cheeks. "Don't do this, Kurt. Don't do this to me."

"Promise me."

She nodded hesitantly but affirmatively.

"It ends now."

She choked on a sob. "_Please_, Kurt."

His eyes filled with tears. "I want you safe, my Rose."

A keening wail was torn from her throat as she fell to her knees. The Doctor was muttering and cursing under his breath as he tried and failed to dispel the shield Kurt had erected, despite knowing it was impossible. He defeated the impossible with routine ease, but he had no defense against magic.

They were coming, he knew. The Daleks. He could hear them like he could his beating hearts, like his racing pulse, like the sound of war drums in his ears.

Kurt threw back his head and screamed.

* * *

"By the generous will of the Ancients," Santana chanted, "the almighty power of the Divine Spirits, your supplicants humbly beseech thee to behold us and that which we possess, the moieties of the One, the Avatar."

She laid down her card. "_Spiritus_. Spirit."

Sam laid down his. "_Animus_. Heart."

Finally, Quinn. "_Sophus_. Mind."

Santana laid down another card as well as a picture of Kurt between the four candles at the center of the circle. "_Et Manus_. The Hand."

They spoke as one. "We enjoin thee that we may inhabit the Vessel, the Hand. We implore thee! Admit us! Bring us to the Vessel! Take us now!"

Their heads dropped and their arms went limp at their sides.

Prue blew out a breath. "_Hear now the words of the witches, the secrets we hid in the night. The oldest of gods are invoked here; the great work of magic is sought_." She swallowed heavily. "_In this night and in this hour, I call upon the ancient power_."

She closed her eyes and held aloft her arms. "_Prudence, Penelope, Patricia, Melinda; Suzanne, Olivia, Felicia, Sarah; Laura, Astrid, Helena, Grace. Warren witches stand strong beside us, lend us your power through time and space. Blood of our blood, bone of our bone, the Hand is ours. He shall not walk alone_."

* * *

Kurt's body visibly shook as raw, undiluted power poured into him. He was then made aware of presences in his mind which were decidedly not his, though he recognized them.

_What did you do?_ he bellowed.

_You're fucking crazy if you thought we would let you do this alone!_ Santana shouted back at him.

_We don't have time for posturing,_ Quinn said. _Fight now; scold later._

_Kick our asses after this is over, Kurt_, Sam said. _First, let's kill these evil fucks._

Santana had to admit that Sam was really turning into a badass. She was kind of digging it.

* * *

"Exterminate! Exterminate!"

Kurt sneered. "You'd think these tin cans would have upgraded their vocabulary by now."

Rose and the Doctor stopped their protesting in favor of further staring at Kurt.

"Why are his eyes that color?" Rose whispered. "They're orange."

"His voice," Jack muttered. "Those aren't human harmonics."

"That is no longer just Kurt," the Doctor said lowly. "Oh, my boy, what have you done?"

* * *

Kurt slowly began rising in the air and he knew without knowing that every magical power that had ever existed in his family line was now at his disposal.

_What a rush_, Sam murmured.

_Easy for you to say,_ Kurt complained. _You're not the one trying to rein this in. By the way, when I get back to Earth, remind me to kill you all slowly._

The Supreme Dalek entered the bay, demanding to know what was happening while cursing Kurt as an abomination.

"Yeah, I've gotten that before," the boy said blithely. "Be more original. So am I to assume that, because you're red, you're somehow in charge?"

"I am the Supreme One."

"Did something happen to Diana Ross?"

"Exterminate!"

Kurt rolled his eyes, flicked his wrists, and watched dispassionately as the Supreme One exploded into pink chunky bits.

"Hm. I can see why Piper likes that power."

"The Supreme One has been exterminated! The Supreme One has been exterminated!"

Kurt watched with faint interest as the Daleks fumbled about without a leader to direct them. This was so very odd. The Daleks as he knew them were never so dependent on one superior. Yes, there were Daleks of higher rank, but they all shared a purpose, a common goal. They shouldn't require the amount of direction they were demanding.

He frowned. Blasphemy?

Since when did Daleks have any concept of _blasphemy_?

He shook his head. He was allowing himself to be distracted.

"Donna," he said, his voice somehow projecting over the din, "you know how to return the planets to their proper places. Do it now. The Doctor will see to the Earth."

She looked into those eyes and _believed_. She didn't know what, precisely, it was in which she believed, but she trusted it. She complied.

"No!" Davros screamed.

"Your time is over," Kurt told him. "It was over long ago."

"I am immortal!"

Kurt descended and when his feet touched the floor, he rose to his full height, his suffocating presence pressing out into the vast space, and he smirked. Suddenly he was enveloped in a golden light.

"You are tiny..."

Rose gasped.

"No," the Doctor whispered. "Kurt, don't. Don't become this."

"I can see the whole of time and space, every single atom of your existence..."

"Kurt, no!" the Doctor screamed.

Kurt raised his hand. "...and I divide them."

Davros began burning from his feet up, his lame body twisting and convulsing as he screamed epithets and vowed revenge. And then he was no more.

"What have you done?" the Doctor roared. "Why did you do this?"

He shuddered when Kurt turned and fixed those empty eyes upon him.

"Because you couldn't," Kurt said. "Because you wouldn't. What you will never understand, Doctor, is that none of us has ever died in your name. We die with our own names, our own thoughts, because we make our own choices. You are not responsible for the decisions of others.

"You are not responsible for the Time War. You are not responsible for the Autons or the Sycorax or the Sontarans or the Cybermen or the Daleks. You are not responsible for the Gelth or the Jagrafess or the Reapers or the Slitheen. Evil is a true force in this universe, Doctor. It is real and it is terrifying and it is always seeking entrance."

The Doctor stared.

"And you have always risen to fight it. Don't ever make that out for less than what it is, because your Children of Time, the millions of planets and races you have saved, do not.

"You are not responsible for this or for me, and I won't have you thinking otherwise. You were not responsible for Rose being lost. You were not responsible for Astrid Peth. You were not responsible for the Tree of Cheem, the Face of Boe, Lynda with a Y, Jack becoming...whatever it is he is, Malmooth, or the Ood."

Tears slipped down his cheeks. "We love you, Doctor. We love you so much. Why can't you let that be enough? Why can't you accept we love you as much as you love us? Look behind you. Look at Sarah Jane and Rose and Martha and Jack and Donna. Even Jackie and Mickey, Doctor. We _love_ you.

"We are responsible for ourselves. We are responsible for our own choices. Excusing them or bearing their consequences does us no favors and only cheapens our sacrifices; sacrifices we willingly make. You gave all of us a _purpose_. You allowed us to become more than we ever thought possible. Sometimes bad things happen to good people, Doctor, but that's not your fault."

"He's right," Martha said.

"About everything," Jack agreed.

"And you know it," Donna said.

Kurt's stared bored into him. "Tell her this time, Doctor. Don't let this chance pass you by again. Don't leave her wondering. Don't do that to her."

The Doctor bit his lip and looked to Rose, who took his hand. "I love you."

Her breath caught. "Thank you," she breathed.

"Now go."

They all turned as one toward him.

"Go," Kurt repeated. "I have work to do."

"Kurt..." Rose began.

"The Time War ends, Rose. This time for good, I promise."

"I won't let you do this," the Doctor snarled. "I will not let you do this!"

Kurt smiled sadly. "It's not up to you, Doctor. I make my own decisions. I'm like a person that way." He held up a hand and returned the power he had temporarily borrowed from the TARDIS. "Thank you, my girl. Get them home safely, okay? No side trips."

The TARDIS gave a mournful whirl.

"You _may not_ do this!" the Doctor screamed. "You may not!" Some horrible noise, like that of a trapped and dying animal, was then ripped from this throat. "Kurt, _please_."

Suddenly they were all screaming and pounding ineffectually on the barrier which separated them from him, watching with horror as the Daleks grew closer and closer to Kurt, who sensed them but ignored them.

They opened fire and, as the multiple beams raced toward him, Kurt raised a hand and each death ray was transmogrified into a dove.

Martha shook her head in wonder. This changed everything for her. This shattered her world view, but in a good way. There was so much more out there than she had ever realized, than she could have ever anticipated, and she wanted to know everything about it.

"His power is astonishing," Sarah Jane whispered. "I've never seen anything like this."

"And you never will again."

"Who said that?" Rose demanded. "Show yourself!"

"I can't, lady!" the voice complained. "I'm unable to manifest myself physically on this plane of existence. If I could, don't you think I'd be helping him?"

The chatter in Kurt's head, which he had largely been able to ignore, exploded and overwhelmed him.

_The Queen_, Quinn whispered.

Kurt fell to his knees. "Get them out, Cordelia. Send them home."

"Kurt..."

"Send them home," he hissed through gritted teeth. "I won't do this with them here."

"Then don't!" she thundered. "Don't do this at all!"

"It's the only way."

Silence for a long moment. "Are you sure?"

"Send them home."

Quinn, Sam, and Santana were then torn from his mind, shrieking their protests all the while, as they were returned to their bodies on Earth. Kurt's eyes resumed their normal color.

"Thank you," he whispered, sighing. "They were only distracting me."

"Who are you talking to?" Jackie demanded.

"The Power Who Is."

The Doctor's mouth fell open as he shook his head dumbly.

Jackie was now quite irritated. "Who is _what__?_"

There was a great rumbling and a gathering of energy. Kurt looked up.

"Oh, my god," Martha whispered.

"It's been activated," said a horrified Jack. "The reality bomb has been activated."

And Kurt was standing just beneath it.

"Move!" Rose screamed. "Kurt, move!"

He shook his head. "I can't. I have to stop it."

"You can't stop it!" the Doctor yelled. "It can't be stopped!"

Kurt locked his knees together and held his arms aloft.

"What are you doing?" Sarah Jane demanded.

He stood there as the bomb was triggered, as the destructive energy was delivered through the canon, and absorbed it.

"That's impossible," Mickey insisted. "That's _impossible_."

Kurt burned white.

"He's going to die," the Doctor whispered in horror. "He's really going to die."

"He won't," Cordelia said. "He was born to handle such power."

They stood with baited breath and many tears as Kurt then fell to his knees, head bowed and shoulders hunched as the energy poured into him. He screamed in agony as his clothes began to disintegrate and his hair burned off.

And then it was over.

He stood with great difficulty, his garments in tatters and the portions of his body that were visible covered in bruises and horrific burns. He swooned as he struggled to regain his footing.

"And now you have to go."

"The hell we do!" Rose barked. "Kurt, if you think for one minute..."

She was cut off when Kurt raised his hands, palms facing outward. He then turned them toward himself and the TARDIS doors flew open. He pushed and threw them all into the TARDIS. Another turn and the doors closed. The TARDIS disappeared.

"You'll see to Donna, won't you?"

"I'll do what I can, Kurt," Cordelia softly promised, "but I can't guarantee the outcome. You know that. The Doctor Donna..."

"Will survive," he interrupted. "The universe needs her, especially now. Rose promised me. Santana and Brittany will be able to help."

A bitter chuckle erupted. "I always knew it might come to this, Cordelia, and I'm walking into it with eyes wide open. The simple fact of the matter is that I _do_ have to do this and you know it." He bit his lip. "Look after them for me, please. Don't let them get lost this time."

"I'll do everything I can."

"Thank you."

"Please don't do this," she pleaded. "It wasn't supposed to be this way, not after everything you've done, after all you've given. You don't deserve this."

"I should never have existed. No one should have this much power. No one should be able to invoke it or access it. It's unnatural and it's wrong."

"That's bullshit!"

"I had the Hollow running through me, Cordelia, and I didn't let it rule me. Right now I have the magic of the entire Warren line pulsing in my veins. That spell the others used to get me here, I know what it is. There's a price to pay for power and I'm going to be the one who pays it, _not them._

"I completed my task. The Pentad is no longer needed and neither am I." He choked on a sob. "I'm so tired. I just want to rest, Cordy. Please let me. Please let me go."

"All right," she said in quiet defeat.

He gathered a breath. "What will happen? After?"

"I don't know," she said honestly. "That's not solely up to me."

He nodded. "I love you."

"I love you, too, honey," she whispered, heart in her throat.

"It's time. Please leave."

"I will stay, thank you," she said sharply. "Someone should bear witness to this."

* * *

They blinked in confusion as they took in their new surroundings.

"Where the hell are we?" Phoebe demanded.

"McKinley High's gym," said an unfamiliar voice.

The Charmed Ones, their husbands, and their children turned toward it.

"Sue Sylvester," she said as though that explained everything. "Who the hell are you?"

Piper frowned and looked to her left. "Burt?"

"Piper? What are you doing here?"

"Where's Kurt?" she demanded.

He stepped forward out of Carole and Finn's embrace. "I don't know," he warbled.

Sue narrowed her eyes. "What does Porcelain have to do with this craziness?"

And then the Pentad appeared, Santana screaming her head off, blurring English and Spanish in a haphazard manner that was barely understandable.

"Who does that _pendejo_ think he is?" she roared. "I'll show him who..."

A stoic Quinn led a sobbing Sam over to the bleachers.

Mike stared.

No, he would not allow this to happen. He would not believe this.

Xander appeared next, with his husband Sam Winchester and their wards Dawn Summers and Connor Angel. Buffy and Willow soon followed, along with Giles, and finally Faith Lehane and Dean Winchester.

"Where is he?" Xander asked.

A whirring noise and a bright blue box suddenly materialized with an absurd number of people impossibly spilling out from inside of it.

Burt's eyes immediately turned toward a brown suit. "_You_," he hissed.

The Doctor said nothing, did nothing.

"Where is my boy?"

"He's not here?" asked a frantic Rose. "He threw us all into the TARDIS and we brought the Earth back. We just assumed he'd be here..."

"She's in denial," Jackie murmured, tears in her eyes.

"Denial of what?" Finn demanded.

Rose babbled. "He was talking to someone named Cordelia..."

Several sharp gasps.

"What?" asked a shaken Xander. "What did she look like? Did you see her?"

"She wasn't there," Rose said, "just her voice. Kurt said she was Cordelia, the Power Who Is."

Buffy and Faith stared. Willow stepped back, eyes the size of dinner plates.

"Oh my god," Giles whispered.

"Where is Kurt?" Burt screamed. "Prue! Prue, goddamn it, show yourself!"

"What?" Phoebe asked, voice high and thin.

Prue orbed in, but refused to meet anyone's eyes.

"No," Burt said staunchly.

"I can't feel him anymore," Prue whispered. "I can still feel the girls and Sam, but I can't feel him. Neither can Tara."

Willow started breathing heavily, eyes turning black.

"Fucking yellow crayon, Will!" Xander bellowed.

Rose laughed maniacally. "He's not dead. Can't be. He told me he'd always be there for me whenever I needed him and I still need him. Always will. So he can't be dead, see?"

The innocence in her voice, the absolute sincerity of her tone, sent Burt to his knees. He pitched himself forward and vomited.

* * *

Kurt closed his eyes and sighed, knowing he would not dissuade her and that she was in no physical danger from what he was about to do. He sensed the remaining Daleks attempting to flee the Crucible on their warships.

He cocked his head and laughed. "Oh, I don't think so, you little assholes."

He took a deep breath and gathered his magic.

"Everything must come to dust. All things. Everything dies."

* * *

Mike gasped sharply and clutched at his chest. His scream shattered every pane of glass in the city.

There was an explosion of white light. It dissipated after a few seconds and, in its wake, there stood...

"Anya?" said an incredulous Xander.

"Cordelia sent me," she said quietly, looking down at the floor. "She wanted to come herself but, of course, that's not an option." She swallowed heavily. "He destroyed the Daleks utterly. The Time War is over."

She closed her eyes. "He's gone. I'm so sorry."

* * *

"What the devil are we doing here? Blasted ship, always thinking she's in charge." He turned and glared at it over his shoulder, shaking a fist. "We'll see about that when I get those doors open, you glorified horse and buggy!"

The TARDIS whirred and he would have _sworn_ that accursed ship was sticking her tongue out at him! The nerve!

He continued walking, grumbling under his breath, wondering where the hell he was and what he was supposed to be doing. He had learned a while ago that when the TARDIS got something into her head, it was usually best to go along with it, but he didn't have to like it.

Hadn't wanted to go to the beach, anyhow, especially not in Norway. Bloody cold.

He turned the collar of his leather jacket up at the neck.

"Supposed to be stopping Autons," he mumbled. "Saving the world and stuff. Kind of important."

He kicked at a troublesome little pile of sand, relishing when it scattered.

He then heard a dry cough and a tiny moan. He stopped and tilted his head, trying to attune his hearing. He looked to his far left and saw...something...lying on the edge of the beach, about to be swept out to sea. His hearts fell when he realized it was a body.

"Oh, bloody hell."

Another cough.

His eyes widened and he took off running.

The closer he got, the more concerned he became. A young man, far too young, probably still a teenager. _Horribly_ burned. What monstrous thing had done that? Hair gone. Clothes in tatters. Had he been assaulted and left for dead?

He raced toward the shore and fell to his knees, easing forward.

"There now," he said quietly. "It's all going to be all right, yeah? I can fix you up in no time!"

A pained gurgle.

"Oi, don't go doubting me already! I'm the very best, I'll have you know!"

He gently placed his hands underneath the boy's body. The boy coughed again and turned his head.

Such eyes.

Eyes filled with pain and horror and longing and love and death.

The Doctor knew those eyes.

He saw them every day in the mirror.

"I think you need a Doctor," he said kindly, rising to his feet with the boy in his arms.

The boy blinked harshly several times before using a hand to shield his eyes from the unforgiving sun. His breath hitched.

That voice. That accent. That nose. Those _ears_.

_That jacket_.

"You found me," Kurt whispered.

The Doctor scoffed. "Well, o'course I did! I wasn't just going to let you lie there like a beached whale, was I? As I said, I'll fix you right up and then..."

Kurt hesitantly reached up and stroked the Doctor's cheek.

The Doctor blinked owlishly but didn't pull away. He couldn't remember the last time he had been touched with such gentleness.

With such...such _reverence._

Who _was_ this boy?

"My Doctor," Kurt murmured, closing his eyes and resting his head against the Doctor's chest, allowing the two heartbeats to lull him to sleep.

"Who are you?" the Doctor wondered. "Why do I feel..."

What _did_ he feel?

Strange, that's what.

Had he crossed his own timeline again? Why would this boy know him? How did this boy know him? He had just regenerated after the Time War.

_Note to self: you're on your ninth regeneration, old boy. Do try to be more careful_.

He looked down at the precious - _precious?_ - boy in his arms and, for no reason he could understand, ran his thumb over the boy's lips.

Kurt sighed in his sleep.

_My Doctor._


End file.
